


The Little Elf Maid

by strangegibbon



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fairy Tales, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangegibbon/pseuds/strangegibbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to a Thedas fairy tale prompt from CMDA. "Tell me a story, Father. Tell me something true." Slight liberties taken with the DAO storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Elf Maid

"Tell me a story."

"It's late, Sweetling."

"Please?" Big, blue eyes blink up at him, once, twice. "Pleeeaaase, Father?"

"Not fair. You know I can't resist it when you...anything."

Small, warm limbs curl around him and a satisfied, slightly smug noise drifts up from the nest of blankets.

"So what do you want to hear?"

"A fairy story. Something true."

"You know, those two things don't really go together..."

"Fa- _aather_..."

"Oh, all right then. But fairy stories don't often have happy endings."

"That's why they're true."

He sighs indulgently, arranges himself more comfortably on the bed and closes his eyes, feeling soft hair tickle his cheek. "Once upon a time..."

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time there was a princess. A princess of a beautiful, roaming people who travelled in secret, hidden from the sunlight by canopy and mistrust, forever holding themselves apart from the company of the world around them. They were a fast and hardy people, strong but hobbled by grievance and hatred towards outsiders.

"What was her name?"

"Her name?"

"The princess needs a  _name._ "

"She was…she was called…"

The princess was called Mahariel and she was as wise as she was brave, a leader, a warrior. She walked without fear in the forests of the world, wrapped herself in the breaths of the woods and danced to the songs of the river. She was the most beautiful of them all.

One day she found a mirror, a thing of pure evil that infected her and forced her out from the safety of her clan into a bright, violent land filled with unfamiliar races and a terrible war. She wanted no part of this war and nothing to do with the strangers that surrounded her but a powerful spell was cast upon her which forever set her apart from her people. And for a while she lost herself. She rarely spoke and when she did it was in anger and bitterness. The woods and rivers no longer called to her and she felt their absence like tiny shards of glass in her mind.

But one day she met a prince. A prince who was under the same spell as she was.

"Was he handsome?"

"Some would say so, yes."

"What was his name?"

"Now  _his_ name was Alistair. What? Don't look at me like that."

"Alistair's a stupid name."

Because the spell had made them special, the king of the land sent them on a dangerous mission together whilst his armies fought a vicious battle to try and hold the darkness at bay. But they were all of them betrayed. The king died, there, on the battlefield, surrounded by brave men. Mahariel and the prince almost died too but they were saved by a powerful witch and tasked with saving the world from the Old One, the source of all the evil and the cause of the terrible war.

But one of the bravest warriors of them all, a friend of the prince, had died that day on the battlefield and the prince was broken, as lost as the princess, drowning in his grief. And Mahariel saw a little of herself in him, then. She reached out in her loneliness, pushing aside the mistrust and bitterness she had held onto for so long. She began to talk to him as they travelled together and little by little she found her voice again.

Companions joined them in their dangerous quest – witches, a giant, hairy dwarves, a singing lady and a woman made of stone. A dirty elf-

"I thought elves were clean. The ones in the castle are."

"Well this one wasn't, trust me."

"Why not? Was it a city elf?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"But- "

"Ah ah ah. Do you want the rest of this story or not?"

Alistair and Mahariel fell in love and for a while everything was perfect. They journeyed through strange lands, met stranger people, fought and grew stronger. Their companions became comrades and eventually friends, bound together through fate and adversity. They rallied armies to their cause and saved so many lives they were dizzy with their success. They thought their love was forever, all consuming and stronger than death itself.

But it was not to last. The prince had a duty to unite the land against the Old One. To do this he had to marry a princess from another realm and bring all the many armies of men together in fealty. He made his decision and Mahariel's heart was broken. She refused to speak to him any more even though he was hurting just as much as she was. For days she wandered in silence, numb and wishing for death. A grey ghost with eyes that burned with molten steel and pure hatred.

Before the final battle, she and the prince were told that only a hero under a powerful spell could kill the Old One and for a while they believed the final blow would be struck by another on their quest. But, at the last, as they fought through the burning city with their companions, Mahariel and Alistair knew it had to be one of them. That one of them would have to die to save the world.

Mahariel was glad. This was her way home. With the prince dead and the Old One vanquished there would be no more need of her. She could seek out her people, return to her forests, the spell could not stop her leaving if she wished it. She rejoiced and danced with fire and abandon, cutting through the hordes that swarmed them, a beautiful spirit of war and death.

There, on that rooftop, surrounded by the dead and dying, she watched Alistair face the Old One.

He turned to look at her one last time and she saw such love in his eyes that all at once she knew she could not bear to watch him die, even at the cost of her own life. She picked up her sword and rushed at the demon, striking the final blow with a cry of triumph and joy. The prince saw her figure glow like a thousand burning suns as the Old One fell, outlined in the brightest light before it shimmered and scattered, dissolving like foam on the sea.

The prince was a hero. He married the princess from the other realm and reigned well, if not always wisely. The kingdom was saved.

"The kingdom was saved...Mahariel and Alistair were heroes!"

"Yes."

"But you look so... _sad_ , Father. Wasn't that a happy ending? The princess sacrificed herself to save everyone."

He leans forward and touches his lips to his daughter's forehead.

"I know, pet. Come on, it's late. We're going to visit Uncle Teagan tomorrow so you'd better get lots of rest."

"Night night." He smiles at the little voice already drifting into sleep as he heads quietly towards the door and blows out the candle.

"Father?"

"What is it, my dear?"

"Alistair's not a stupid name really."

He chuckles fondly.

"Sweet dreams, Lyna."

END


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